31 Days of Crackfest: Gargoyles Edition
by Ness Frost
Summary: How does Elisa explain all of the guns that she loses? Why doesn't Nokkar know what the Space Spawn look like? What's Elisa going to do for Halloween when she runs out of princesses? What would this series look like with accurate physics? Look no further for answers to all of the questions that nobody ever asked! Happy Halloween; I wouldn't be riffing it if I didn't love it.
1. Russian Roulette

Elisa has some explaining to do to her boss.

**Rating:** K+  
**Setting:** Canon compliant  
**Characters:** Elisa, Captain Chavez  
**Relationships:** Elisa & Captain Chavez  
**Warnings:** None  
**Other Tags:** Fridge Logic, How _does_ Elisa explain to her boss all the guns that she loses?

* * *

Captain Chavez looked at the twisted lump of metal that Elisa had just placed on her desk, and then back up at Elisa, eyebrow raised. "Care to explain?"

"I was investigating the disturbance at the Eyrie Building, and it got caught in some heavy machinery. At least it didn't explode or something, right?" She attempted a laugh.

Captain Chavez did not look amused. "Heavy machinery, was it?" She picked up the gun and carefully turned it over, examining the bend from where Goliath had crushed it. "And _how_, exactly, did it get caught?"

"Hey, it's not like I threw it! It got knocked out of my hand. By accident."

That at least was true enough (well, aside from the "accident" part). Hopefully Captain Chavez wouldn't think to ask why Elisa had drawn her gun in the first place.

In the end, the captain still didn't look happy, but there was no denying the evidence, and she had to admit that Elisa was not normally one to carelessly lose a service weapon. In the end, she did get a replacement, and got off with a stern warning to be more careful in the future.

* * *

"I'm serious! My apartment was broken into!"

Well, it _was_ true. She was just neglecting to mention a couple of critical details. Like the fact that she'd been present during the break-in, that the invader had been Demona, that she'd been intending to _kill_ Elisa rather than just rob her, and that her gun had been crushed, not stolen.

"And you're telling me the thief stole your _gun?_ The one you keep in a lockbox whenever you're not using it? All of your money and valuables were left completely untouched?"

"H-hey, I can't read criminals' minds. Maybe they didn't know what was in the box?"

Captain Chavez pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine," she said at last, lowering her hand. "You're clearly not at fault here, whatever the thief's motives. I still expect you to file a report," she added as Elisa turned toward the door with a sigh of relief. "There needs to be a record if that gun ends up on the streets."

"Right. Of course." _Fat chance of that_, she thought as she left the office. At least Demona had done the favor of destroying her gun rather than letting it fall into the wrong hands.

* * *

"I'm telling you, it was Xanatos!"

"Maza. you've got to stop blaming all of your problems on Xanatos. You couldn't prove he was stockpiling illegal weapons, you couldn't prove he was responsible for your brother's disappearance, and I doubt you can prove that he…" Captain Chavez raised an eyebrow, "…_crushed your gun_ last night."

"Oh yeah?" Elisa placed her hands on the captain's desk. "Then how about I bring him in here to explain himself?" _Besides_, she thought through gritted teeth, _he owes me one for what he did to Derek._

"If you're asking me to get you a warrant for Xanatos's arrest, the answer is no." Captain Chavez rubbed her forehead, and her eyes flicked again to the twisted lump of metal on her desk, a lump which even she could not deny had been a perfectly functional gun the day _before_ Halloween. "_If_ he is able to corroborate your story, I'll reconsider. But as you know, department issued weapons that were lost or damaged due to your own carelessness _will_ come out of your paycheck, and pointing fingers at Xanatos isn't going to change department policy. Is that clear?"

Elisa sighed. "Of course, Captain."

When, several days later, the NYPD received a generous donation for the purpose of restocking supplies, in addition to a formal apology for any "misunderstanding", Captain Chavez raised her eyebrow but wisely decided not to comment.

* * *

Captain Chavez was in the middle of filling out some paperwork when a wad of bills was slammed down on her desk.

"Did you manage to lose _another_ weapon, Maza?" She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "So what was it this time? Fell into the ocean? Melted by lightning? Stolen by gargoyles?"

"Seriously." Elisa probably looked as annoyed as she felt, but even _she_ couldn't come up with a way to explain to her boss that she'd donated her gun to be melted down to make a weapon for the inhabitants of Avalon to defend themselves from a creature from one of Shakespeare's plays. "_Don't ask._"

* * *

**A/N:** This story is crack and is in no way meant to accurately reflect the real-life penalties or procedures for the loss or destruction of a service weapon. (Also, I just realized that I'm now two for two on crack-a-thons that pass the Bechdel Test right off the bat, and I wasn't even trying. Yay?)


	2. Missing Persons

We all remember what happened during "The Mirror"… but what about Xanatos and Owen?

**Rating:** K  
**Setting:** Canon compliant ("The Mirror"); Elsewhere  
**Characters:** Xanatos, Owen  
**Relationship:** Xanatos & Owen  
**Warnings:** Major, _major_ spoilers for the latter part of the series. If you have not watched until at least "The Gathering", you will either be spoiled or you will not get the joke.  
**Other Tags:** Villainous scheming, Xanatos is a villain who likes to keep up his good publicity

* * *

"…and I want to put in a public appearance sometime this week. Something… charitable."

"Of course, sir. Might I suggest the veterans' fundraiser next Tuesday? Or perhaps another museum donation would be more to your taste?"

"Schedule an appearance at the fundraiser. The public will get suspicious if another priceless work of art is stolen from the museum right after I donate it."

"No doubt." Owen raised an eyebrow as he jotted down a note. "I believe you were also intending to pay a visit to the jeweler?"

"Ah yes, the engagement ring. I believe that I have the perfect design. As a matter of fact, give them a call right now and tell them to see it's ready in time for the big date."

"Consider it done, sir. Though, if I may suggest—"

"Suggest what, Owen? Owen?" Xanatos turned, but the only sign of Owen was the clattering of his clipboard against the floor. "Odd. I wonder where he could have gone off to in such a hurry."

* * *

"Where _could_ he have gotten to?" Xanatos wondered, again. Owen had never before run out on him without notice, and he wasn't showing up on any of the security feeds. A review of the tape revealed that Owen had not walked out, but simply vanished—which still did not answer the question of _why_.

Something wasn't right here, something that went beyond Owen's disappearance, but which was very likely connected. Call it a hunch, but that hunch nagged at him. "I can't for the life of me figure it out," he said out loud as he folded his wings.

Whatever it was, he was sure it would come clear once he recovered Owen. He strode down the hallway, tail lashing in agitation at his inability to grasp the thought that always seemed just out of reach.

* * *

After several hours of Owen's no-show act, Xanatos already had several plans brewing to first ascertain his whereabouts and then recover him, but before doing anything drastic, he thought it would be a good idea to at least try the obvious.

"Owen?" he called, knocking lightly on the door of his servant's room. "Owen, are you in?"

To his relief, he was answered with a faint "come in". Xanatos pushed open the door, to see Owen splayed out on the bed.

"I'll admit, Owen," Xanatos said, leaning against the doorframe as Owen sat up and put on his glasses, "I'm surprised. It isn't like you to be napping on the job."

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I am not feeling well. I will require some time to recover, but should be able to resume my normal duties tomorrow."

"I see." Xanatos raised an eyebrow. "Well, far be it from me to impede your recovery… but I do look forward to hearing your explanation. I'm sure it will be quite riveting."

"You don't know the half of it," Owen confessed wearily as the door closed behind him.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, Puck _did_ say he was going to need a _very_ long nap.

(Yes, I know that Xanatos didn't propose to Fox with a ring. Using the Eye of Odin was what Owen was about to suggest.)


	3. Doing It Interspecies Style, Take 1

There are downsides to being in an interspecies relationship. Some of them are big things, such as society's censure or not being able to have children. Then, there are the little things…

**Rating:** T  
**Setting:** Post-canon  
**Characters:** Elisa  
**Relationship:** Elisa/Goliath  
**Warnings:** Implied sexual content  
**Other Tags:** That poor bed…

* * *

"Well let me tell you something, lady. I don't think I've ever seen everyone with luck this bad."

"Yeah," Elisa confessed, making sure to keep her voice casual. "I go through a lot of beds."

"So what happened, a boulder fall in your bed?" one of the workers asked as they cleared away the splintered remains of her previous bedframe. "Not that it's any of my business, but you'd think there'd been an earthquake in here."

"Yeah." Elisa shrugged, keeping her hands in her pockets and her expression carefully neutral. "Something like that." She surreptitiously nudged a piece of the frame so the claw marks in the wood were no longer visible.

This was not going to be easy on her wallet, but whatever the workmen might be _thinking_, at least they were sticking to jokes about boulders and earthquakes. The _last_ time her bed had been broken, she'd made the mistake of asking Derek to help her move in the new frame, and _he'd_ known _exactly_ why her brand-new mattress was suddenly all saggy and her brand-new bedframe was suddenly in splinters.

"_Elisa, just do me a favor, and _don't _tell me the details._"

"Okay, all done."

"All right, thanks guys." She made sure to tip the workers generously before she saw them out.

When they were gone, Elisa turned to the window and, hands on hips, addressed the statue that was perched outside on her balcony. "Okay, big guy. From now on, we're using the floor."

* * *

**A/N:** Of course, _next_ time, Elisa just might end up having to explain to her landlord why there are claw marks in the floor.


	4. Gravity Is a Harsh Mistress

Sometimes, the laws of physics can be turned to one's advantage… but _most_ of the time they're just trying to kill you.

**Rating:** M  
**Setting:** AU ("Awakening")  
**Characters:** Goliath, Elisa  
**Warnings:** Character death, _extremely_ morbid humor  
**Other Tags:** Physics riff; I am so, so sorry

* * *

Goliath should have known that it was hopeless.

He _knew_, he'd already learned from many, many years' worth of hard experience, that it was almost always impossible to catch a falling object—or a falling _person—_from above. For some reason, it didn't seem to matter what they weighed; unless they had wings, or some other means of slowing their descent, falling objects always fell at the same rate.

Leaning over the ledge of the building he was perched on, Goliath peered down at the street, and immediately wished he hadn't.

He honestly had not meant to scare her. He _certainly_ hadn't meant for her to fall off the side of the castle. He'd only been thinking to get her weapon away from her before she could hurt anyone. The problem was that he'd forgotten, and he should not have forgotten, how frightening most humans found them—and that the humans of this time were not used to gargoyles as the humans of their own time had been.

Who was she, and what had she been doing in the castle? Goliath would have asked her if he could, but now it was clear that he would never know. The woman who'd surprised him on the battlements was now, as they said in New York, nothing more than "street pizza".

* * *

**A/N:** _This is what happens when you let physicists watch cartoons. _Galileo is probably rolling in his grave.


	5. If the Shoe Fits

When Puck worked his spell, Xanatos must have been turned into a gargoyle along with the rest of the city… so what _did_ he look like, anyway?

**Rating:** K+  
**Setting:** Sometime shortly after "The Mirror"; Elsewhere  
**Continuity:** Companion piece to "Missing Persons"  
**Characters:** Xanatos, Owen  
**Relationships:** Xanatos & Owen  
**Warnings:** Here there be spoilers, if you read between the lines.  
**Other Tags:** Xanatos knows he's a Disney villain and he is determined to enjoy every single moment of it

* * *

"Ah, Owen. Just in time. And now that you're feeling better, I was wondering if you'd explain something for me." Swiveling around in his chair, he tapped the image that had been frozen from one of the security cameras. It showed Xanatos… but not the usual Xanatos.

"There's honestly not much to explain, sir." Owen pushed his glasses further up on his nose as he took a place behind Xanatos's chair. "You were physically present in Manhattan at the time the spell was cast, ergo, you were subject to all of its effects—"

"I wasn't referring to the fact that I turned into a gargoyle, Owen. I know why _that_ happened. Though it _is_ a pity I didn't think to test out those wings while I had the chance," he added as an afterthought. "What I was wondering about was some of the… _specifics_ of my appearance."

"I… see, sir." Owen pulled up a chair of his own, and scooted it in to get a closer look at the screen.

"If this was a joke, let me reassure you that I think it is a clever one. I merely wish to satisfy my own curiosity." He gestured once more at the image.

"I can assure you, sir, that it was not a joke. Transformation spells are quite energy intensive as-is, and that degree of fine-tuning would have been prohibitively expensive. As delightful as the joke would have been, the act of transforming an entire city left no room to concentrate on any given person."

"I see." Xanatos gripped his chin as he peered at the screen. "So you're saying that this is all just a coincidence?"

"Not quite, sir." Owen steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "You see, transformation magic tends to take the path of least resistance—though there are always some exceptions, for the most part, whatever can remain the same, does. So in most cases one's body type, hairstyle, and basic facial features would all carry over. As for the rest, while there is some degree of random chance involved, the specifics of one's new form tend to be determined by one's own internal affiliation."

"So you're saying that what we're seeing here is simply the manifestation of my own inner gargoyle?"

"I believe so, sir."

"I see." Xanatos looked again at his image on the screen: the bright red skin, the black leather wings, and the two short, pointed horns that stuck up above his eyebrows.

It was difficult to tell on the grainy security camera footage, but it looked as if the tail was even forked.

"Well." He turned off the screen, and then grinned. "It's good to know that at least I looked the part."

* * *

**A/N:** This started with me realizing that if Xanatos was in Manhattan at the time of "The Mirror", he would have been transformed into a gargoyle right along with everybody else, and idly wondering what his gargoyle form would look like. I concluded that his skin tone would be red, to match his power armor, and since he's already got the facial hair… well, in all honesty, it wasn't _that_ much of a leap. And no, I somehow doubt that he would mind _at all_.


	6. Burn It to the Ground

Macbeth has made some questionable decisions in his life.

**Rating:** T

**Setting:** Pre-canon ("Enter Macbeth")

**Characters:** Macbeth, Banquo, Fleance

**Relationships:** Macbeth & his henchmen

**Warnings:** There are some character actions here that might be interpreted as suicidal if you're reading between the lines, especially as Macbeth _is_ canonically suicidal

**Other Tags:** Fridge Logic, Macbeth is not the greatest boss

"Hey, Boss?"

Looking up from what he was doing, Macbeth glared. "Don't you two have posts to be guarding?"

"We were just wondering what you were doing, is all."

"What does it _look_ like I'm doing?" Turning, he hefted the wooden handle he held, plunged its end into the bucket beside him, and once more commenced pushing it back and forth over the stones. "I'm mopping the floor of my dungeon."

"Yeah, but are you sure you should be—"

Once more, they found themselves on the receiving end of Macbeth's glare. "Do I tell you how to do _your_ jobs?"

"Yeah, Boss, all the t—", Banquo started, but was interrupted by Fleance's elbow landing squarely in the middle of his solar plexus.

"Of course not, Boss. We'll leave you to it." Hooking her arm through Banquo's, she half-led, half-dragged him back up the stairs.

"He… he _does_ know that he's mopping the floor with _kerosene_, right?" Banquo asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Who knows," Fleance replied with a shrug. "But around here, I've found that it's best not to ask too many questions."

**A/N:** This is me wondering how exactly a brazier spilling onto the _stone floor_ of the dungeon actually managed to _catch_ on anything, much less burn Macbeth's whole mansion to the ground. Does he mop the floor with kerosene or something?

(No, I don't know whether kerosene is still flammable after it's dried, but even though I _could_ have looked up a substance that definitely stays flammable when dry, the joke wouldn't work unless I used something that the casual reader would immediately recognize as flammable. It's crack; just go with it.)


	7. The Spice of Life

Elisa's got a system, and it works. So _what_ if her sister doesn't approve?

**Rating:** K  
**Setting:** Can take place at any point before, during, or after the canon timeline; it really does not matter  
**Characters:** Elisa, Beth  
**Relationships:** Elisa & Beth  
**Warnings:** None  
**Other Tags:** Character model riff

* * *

"I don't know why I even go shopping with you anymore."

"Hmmmmmmm… maybe it's because I'm your big sister?" Elisa slipped a shirt off the rack. "Here, try this on. It looks like your style."

"Don't change the subject, Elisa." Beth made a face. "What about _your_ style? Not even sisterly duty is enough to justify _this_." Despite her protests, however, she did still drape the shirt Elisa had picked out over her arm.

"I promised I'd let you pick out an outfit for me, didn't I?"

"Oh, you mean like the _last_ outfit you let me pick out for you? You know, the one you never wear?"

"Hey, I wore it!" Beth crossed her arms, and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "…once."

"Argh!" Beth held the back of her free hand to her forehead in an exaggerated show of exasperation. "I just don't see how you can be so boring!"

"Hey, you call it boring, I call it efficient." Elisa looked down into her basket, which was already filled with everything that she had come to get. "So… care to help me pick out the _next_ outfit that I'll never wear?"

* * *

Once she was back in her apartment, Elisa set her bags on the floor with a sigh of relief. Clothes shopping with Beth was fun, but it was always good to get back home.

Opening a dresser drawer full of blue jeans, she set the new pairs of blue jeans she'd bought inside. Next, she folded all of the black T-shirts in her bag, and put them in the drawer with all of the other black T-shirts. Finally, she'd noticed last week her red jacket had been looking a little frayed; she threw it into the donation pile, and hung her new red jacket in the closet in its place.

The nice dress her sister had picked out for her, she hung in the _other_ side of the closet… along with all of the _other_ outfits her sister had picked out for her. After all, she never knew when her next undercover assignment would be. It never hurt to have something different.

* * *

**A/N:** Ever notice how Elisa is always wearing the _exact same thing?_ Meta-wise, I know that's because it's easier for the animation team to draw her that way, but in-universe, either she never changes her clothes or she's got a whole closet full of identical outfits.

(The outfit that Beth previously got her that she wore once is the one she was wearing while she was undercover in "Protection". The nice dress that Beth got her in this story is the one she ends up wearing in "The Journey"… you know, the one that promptly gets ripped up to bandage Goliath's wing. There are reasons Elisa can't have nice things.)


	8. Doing It Interspecies Style, Take 2

Getting caught in a compromising position is bad. Literally getting _stuck_ in one is worse.

**Rating:** M  
**Setting:** Post-canon  
**Characters:** Elisa  
**Relationships:** Elisa/Goliath  
**Warnings:** Sexual content (nongraphic), nudity  
**Other Tags:** Oh come on, I _cannot_ be the only one who's thought of this!; Cagney being a cat

* * *

This was _not_ happening.

Okay, so they'd lost track of time. What couple _didn't_ occasionally lose track of time? It was so easy to get relaxed… so easy to want to spend just a few more minutes nestled in each other's arms…

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for being nestled in the arms of a stone statue.

This was Elisa's fault, really. There were still so many things she missed about being with a human partner that she just couldn't have with Goliath, and one of the bigger ones was actually being able to _sleep_ together, in the literal sense of the word, of sliding under the covers with a warm body next to her as opposed to a statue on the balcony.

So, yes, she'd talked him into staying cuddled together for just a few more minutes. Then a few more minutes had turned into just a few _more_ minutes. Then, before she knew it, Elisa had said something and hadn't gotten an answer, and from her state of blissed-out semiconsciousness she'd promptly snapped wide awake as she realized that 1) a ray of early morning sunlight was creeping across her bed, and 2) instead of leathery skin, she was now stark naked and trapped in the grip of rough stone.

"If anyone finds me like this they're going to have a field day with the Pygmalion jokes," she muttered—and then began her escape attempt.

She made a valiant effort to wriggle free, but after a few minutes of squirming, she concluded that while it would be theoretically possible in an emergency, she wasn't going to manage it without scraping herself raw—not as unacceptable as breaking Goliath, but still pretty low on her to-do list.

"So I guess we wait for sunset."

It wasn't ideal, but it was the best she could come up with. She didn't have anywhere to be. It was early winter, so the days were short. Unless the apartment caught fire or a group of armed Quarrymen burst in through the window, it simply wasn't worth taking half of her skin off.

"Well, as long as I'm here, I might as well at least _try_ to get some sleep."

"Mrow."

"Oh. Hey, Cagney."

Well, at least that was _one_ warm body in the bed with her, Elisa thought as Cagney leaped up onto the covers. If she was very, very lucky, maybe he could even be persuaded to curl up at her feet…

With the easy agility that only a cat can achieve, Cagney walked and leaped over Elisa and Goliath's entangled bodies until he reached her head. There, he butted his own head up under her chin and then, purring, proceeded to curl up—right around her neck.

Elisa sighed. This was going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

**A/N:** Goliath was _very_ apologetic after he woke up.


	9. Wrong Closet

Elisa has some secrets. Captain Chavez has some concerns.

**Rating:** T

**Setting:** Post Canon

**Characters:** Elisa, Captain Chavez

**Relationships:** Elisa & Captain Chavez, background Elisa/Goliath

**Warnings:** Discussions of homophobia

**Other Tags:** Jumping to conclusions, _plausible_ conclusions, but still wrong ones

"Maza?" Elisa paused as Captain Chavez poked her head out of the office. "Can I have a word?"

"Sure, Captain." She accepted the offer of a seat as the door closed behind her. "So what's this about?"

"First of all, I want to let you know that this is off the record." Captain Chavez steepled her hands in front of her as she took her own seat. "I'm speaking to you now as your friend, not your boss, and you aren't in any kind of trouble… but I _am_ a bit concerned."

"Ooooooo… kay?" Elisa didn't _think_ that she had anything to be worried about. Whatever it was, though, _Captain Chavez_ sure seemed to think that it was a big deal, and that was starting to make _her_ nervous.

For a moment, Captain Chavez rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Maza," she said at last, lowering her hand, "I've been hearing a few rumors around the break room lately. It seems that a few of your colleagues have asked you out, only to be informed that you have a boyfriend—a boyfriend who's never been seen at the department picnic, or for that matter any other events. If you were simply making this guy up because you didn't feel safe turning someone down—"

"Oh!" Elisa started to relax a little. "Oh, no. Morgan was a perfect gentleman about it; you don't need to worry."

"That's good to hear." If anything, though, Captain Chavez now looked even _more_ uncomfortable. "I take it you _do_ have a boyfriend, then?"

"Well, more of a committed partner, now." Elisa smiled. "But yes."

"The one that nobody's ever seen."

Immediately, Elisa was back on guard. She couldn't be sure where Captain Chavez was going with this, but it did _not_ sound good. If anyone found out, or even _guessed_, about her and Goliath, there was never any telling what their reaction would be… but past experience did _not_ leave her hopeful.

"Maza, I'm aware that your life is your own, and if you simply wish to keep your personal life separate from your professional life, that is, of course, your choice." The captain was now uncharacteristically squirming a bit in her seat. "But I want you to know that if this mysterious 'boyfriend' of yours is in fact a woman—"

Relief rushed through Elisa, so much so that she slumped in her seat. Whatever else Captain Chavez had been intending to say, it was promptly lost in a fit of laughter.

"I take it that isn't the case." Captain Chavez looked more than a little relieved herself.

"No, it is not." Elisa pushed out her seat and stood. "It's just what you said earlier… professional life versus personal life." She smiled. "But thanks for the concern."

**A/N:** Given that mysterious boyfriend of hers that nobody ever sees, I would not be surprised if at least a few of Elisa's coworkers have jumped to the conclusion that she's a closeted lesbian. (I think that Chavez is genuinely _trying_ to be supportive, but she's personally really uncomfortable with the idea.)


	10. Déjà Vu

Sometimes, the characters aren't sure exactly which script they're supposed to be reading…

**Rating:** K+  
**Setting:** Meta ("The Cage"), crossover with Batman: The Animated Series ("Tyger Tyger") and a little bit of Rocky Horror  
**Characters:** Talon, Maggie, Elisa, Goliath, Sevarius  
**Relationships:** Some hints of Talon/Maggie if you've got your Shipping Goggles on  
**Warnings:** None  
**Other Tags:** Characters playing themselves, suspiciously similar plot points, voice actor gag, Sevarius is the most obnoxious coworker ever

* * *

"The antidote!" Maggie flexed her claws in agitation. "I'll be stuck like this forever!"

"Would that be so bad?" Talon asked, quietly. "You could stay here, with me."

"Oh, Tygrus. I can't live like this, I have to be human again."

"Wait wait wait, CUT!"

"Jalapeña." Elisa rubbed her forehead, then turned to the pile of rubble against the wall. "Goliath, you can get up now!" she called. "We're doing another take!"

The rubble shifted and Goliath emerged, shaking debris from his hair. "I am getting _very_ tired of being thrown against that wall." He brushed the dust off of himself as a team of Steel Clan robots moved in to put the set back to rights.

Elisa patted his shoulder, then turned to her brother, hands on hips. "Okay, Derek, what is it _this_ time? We've done five takes already, and we have to finish this scene before the end of the night!" She tapped an imaginary watch for emphasis.

"Too true," Sevarius agreed. "I do have other commitments I need to rehearse for, you know." Without further ceremony, he hefted himself up onto the worktable, where he pulled another script out of his jacket and promptly began to sing.

"How do you do, I—"

"We've got the wrong script!" Talon insisted, pulling out his papers and shaking them for emphasis.

"—see you've met my—"

"What do you mean, we've got the wrong script?" Elisa had to shout to make herself heard over Sevarius. ("—faithful handyman—") She tapped her own papers. "Look, it's all here—" ("He's just a little brought down—") "—getting transformed into cat people, the antidote, Maggie wants to be human again…"

"—because when you knocked—"

"No, Elisa, I think he's right." Maggie was reading her own script. ("—he thought you were the candyman—") "At first I thought that 'Cat Woman' just meant me, but look here." ("Don't get strung out—") "There's no 'Tygrus' in this show."

"—by the way I look—"

"That is odd," Goliath admitted, as everyone (save Sevarius, who was still singing) crowded around Maggie to get a look at the page she was pointing to. ("Don't judge a book by its cover—") "If this is someone else's script," ("I'm not much of a man—") "then what happened to ours?"

* * *

"You don't know that!" Tygrus insisted. "The risk is too great!"

"Any risk is better than living as a monster." Catwoman still clutched the vial protectively in her hands.

"I'm a monster."

"But you're strong. Stronger than me. I can't live this way!"

"I couldn't either… not without you. Maggie, we're not strong alone. We're strong together."

"Wait a minute, that's not right."

"What do you mean, Batman?" Tygrus scratched his head as he pulled out his script. "This looks like the right scene to me."

"Well, for one thing, the way I remember it, this episode ends with you," he turned to Catwoman, "taking the antidote and leaving. For another thing, isn't your real name Selina?"

* * *

Somewhere out there, beyond the fourth wall, the director rubbed his hands together and cackled.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay. So when it first came out, a lot of people thought that _Gargoyles_ was just a cheap _Batman_ ripoff. After having watched both series in quick succession, I feel compelled to defend it in this regard, because it went to quite a few places that _Batman_ never dared, including real continuity, three-dimensional villains, compelling relationships, and the willingness to tackle some really tough subject matter without oversimplifying it.

_However_, after having watched both series in quick succession, I must also confess to experiencing an _uncanny_ degree of déjà vu, so much so that there is no _possible_ way that it could be a coincidence. Among the most obvious—and the most egregious—were between "Tyger, Tyger" and "The Cage", both of which featured a brilliant scientist with questionable ethics (Dorian/Sevarius) mutating human prisoners into anthropomorphic cat hybrids, resulting in a romance between a big, powerful, dark-furred male (Tygrus/Talon) and a smaller, lithe, tan-furred female (Selina/Maggie) who desperately wanted to get her hands on a cure so she could be human again. The parallels are so glaring that _it is literally possible to switch the dialogue_ in some places and you would barely notice the difference.

Was it a deliberate ripoff? Who knows, but let's just say that when I started noticing the name of Frank Paur in the credits of both series, it certainly started to explain a lot…


	11. Mouths to Feed, Take 1: Dumpster Diving

The Manhattan Clan has to feed itself _somehow_.

**Rating:** K+  
**Setting:** Can take place at any point during the clan's residence at the Clock Tower  
**Characters:** The Trio  
**Warnings:** Nothing overtly traumatic, but there's definitely material in here that some will find to be rather… _gross_.  
**Other Tags:** Teenager antics, Brooklyn being sarcastic

* * *

"See if you can find any seafood," Broadway called. "There's a clam chowder recipe I've been wanting to try."

"Oh, yeah, sure." Brooklyn poked his head out of the dumpster to glare at Broadway, who was clinging to the side of the building opposite with a sack thrown over his shoulder. "Is there anything else you'd like to custom order while you're at it? Because if you want black truffles again, now would be the time."

"Hey, how was I s'posed to know they'd be so hard to find?"

"Guys! Hey, guys! Look what I got!"

Lexington had come gliding into the alley; when he passed over Broadway's position, he dropped the item he was carrying, which Broadway caught seamlessly. Lexington went on to splay against the wall of the building that closed off the alley, where he, too, clung.

Broadway's eyes lit up when he saw what was in the box. "Artisan chocolates? Where'd you find these, Lex?"

"I'll show you, after we finish up here." He looked over his shoulder. "Hey, Brooklyn, what've you got?"

"Well, let's see." Brooklyn, who'd been sticking his head over the rim of the dumpster, ducked down into it again. "We've got… a few dented cans of beans—" he tossed them up to Broadway, "—a loaf of stale bread, a few wrinkled apples, and some _really_ rancid butter." As Brooklyn named the items, they came flying up out of the dumpster to be caught and stuffed into Broadway's sack. "And now that we've got them, I need to go take a swim in the nearest body of water." Brooklyn exited the dumpster with a clang.

"Cool." Broadway patted the sack. "It won't be clam chowder, but I think I can still make… well, _something_."

"I can hardly wait," Brooklyn muttered with a roll of his eyes.

"Well, I can still show you where to find dessert, at least." Lexington beckoned as he detached from the wall, and the others followed in their quest to put together the rest of their meal.

* * *

**A/N:** Gargoyles may not need to eat three cows a day, but they _do_ still need to eat, and one has to wonder where they were getting their meals once Xanatos was no longer footing the bill. I'm sure Elisa was paying for _some_ of it, but Elisa doesn't have the endless finances that Xanatos does. Given that we saw Broadway enjoying a pretzel during the Trio's explorations all the way back in "Awakening" even though he didn't have money to pay for it and couldn't have approached a merchant even if he did… yeah, there's a pretty obvious conclusion to be drawn regarding where he got it. Gargoyles seem to have stronger stomachs than humans do, going by the fact that Broadway will happily eat slime off a cave wall and Demona's been seen rooting around in the pigs' slop for a meal, and we actually _do_ see Wolf eating out of the trash in "Vendettas", so we know that it _does_ happen in-universe.


	12. Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Tony Dracon is a real glutton for punishment. Makes one wonder if he suffers from any long-term memory problems.

**Rating:** T  
**Setting:** Takes place at several points between "Deadly Force" and "Turf"  
**Characters:** Dracon  
**Relationships:** Dracon & Glasses  
**Warnings:** Some mentions of violence and organized crime  
**Other Tags:** Criminals never learn

* * *

"So… what do you want to do now, Boss?"

"Now?" Dracon watched the prison recede out of the back window of the car as Glasses drove him away. "Now, we need to raise some operating capital to replace what we lost when those guns were destroyed. I've got a family legacy to collect on, and if that doesn't pan out, well… there are a lot of freeloaders who've been living in this neighborhood rent-free for far too long." He shook his head in mock disapproval. "I think it's time we start collecting what we're owed in return for our generous… _protection_."

"Understood, Boss. We'll get on that right away." They drove in silence for a few minutes before Glasses remembered something else. "Oh yeah, how do you want to handle those monsters if they show up again?"

Dracon broke his contemplation of the scenery to meet Glasses's eyes in the rearview mirror. "_What_ monsters?"

"You know, the ones that busted up our _last_ big operation. The ones that destroyed all the guns we stole, and gave you that… that…" He gestured vaguely at his own head to reference the white streak that had appeared in Dracon's hair.

"That _what_, Glasses?" Dracon only continued to look bored, and a little bit annoyed.

Glasses sighed. "Nothing, Boss. Forget it."

* * *

"So, Boss, what do you want to do with Maza?"

"Hm... well, we can't let her go. Not now that she knows we kidnapped her partner." Dracon paced.

"But we can't just 'disappear' her, either. Not unless we want the cops breathing down our necks."

"So make it look like an accident. I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Will do, Boss. Oh, and what do you want me to do if the monsters show up to rescue her again?"

"_What_ monsters?"

"You know, the ones that _always_ show up to help Maza? The… the…" Dracon continued to give him a look that was clearly supposed to ask why Glasses was wasting his time. "You know what, forget it. I'll just tell the boys to shoot if they see one."

* * *

"I want you to hit Brod's gang, and hit 'em hard!"

"Understood, Boss. And what about the monsters?"

"_What_ monsters?"

"You know… the ones who are working with Maza? The ones who nearly made street pizza out of you and Pal Joey back during the protection operation?"

"Glasses, I want to make one thing clear." Dracon stood up, and leaned in towards the speaker. "I want you to stop talking about monsters and start pulverizing Brod's gang!"

"Sure thing, Boss." Glasses managed to keep his sigh to himself… barely. "Whatever you say."

* * *

"So, Boss, you know those monsters that put Brod's gang in here with us…"

"_What_ monsters?"

"…never mind."

* * *

**A/N:** The first time that Dracon encountered gargoyles was when an enraged Goliath was chasing him up the stairs in a dark warehouse and then dangling him upside down over the edge. The second time that Dracon encountered gargoyles was when Broadway slammed into him with a fire escape ladder and then recited movie quotes at him. The third time was when Goliath swept him up into the air, dropped him, and caught him again just to demonstrate exactly what kind of justice Dracon would be subject to if it were up to him. If he still had clean underwear after _any_ of those incidents, I will be very, _very_ surprised. Yet, he never seems to learn his lesson with regard to messing with Manhattan's law-abiding citizens _or_ its resident gargoyle clan. Makes me wonder if he's in some state of perpetual denial.


	13. Doing It Interspecies Style, Take 3

Elisa needs to take some time off for a special occasion. She's just glad it only comes around every 20 years.

**Rating:** T  
**Setting:** Post-canon  
**Characters:** Elisa, Captain Chavez, Matt, Officer Morgan  
**Relationships:** Elisa/Goliath, Elisa & Matt  
**Warnings:** Implied sexual content  
**Other Tags:** Libido mismatch, Matt is in on Elisa and Goliath's relationship

* * *

"So. You want to take time off for a honeymoon, do you?"

"Yeah, well." Elisa shrugged with her hands in her jacket pockets, not meeting Captain Chavez's eye. "We didn't get a chance right after our… um… _commitment_, and we both decided that it was about time—"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Elisa." Captain Chavez held up a hand. "You've had a solid career track, and this… um… commitment of yours was what, ten years ago?"

"Closer to eight, actually."

"Regardless, I think you've earned a break."

"Thanks, Captain." Elisa smiled. "We really, _really_ appreciate it."

Elisa waited until she was outside of the office before she slumped against the wall with a sigh of relief.

"Hey, partner." Matt was coming around the corner; she waved to him weakly. "What happened to _you?_ You look like you nearly got busted for something."

"Let's just say I avoided having to explain mating season to the boss, and leave it at that."

* * *

"Hey, what happened to _you?_" Morgan asked when Elisa staggered in for her shift two weeks later, her hair in disarray and dark circles under her eyes. "You sure that was a honeymoon you went on, and not a zombie hunt?"

"Morgan." Elisa slumped into the nearest desk, her head on her arms. "Shut up, and give me coffee."

Morgan, bless him, only responded with a good-natured laugh. "Sure thing, Detective. You look like you need it."

Five minutes later, a steaming mug was in front of her, and fifteen minutes later, she was beginning to feel _almost_ functional again. She _wished_ she could handle this half as well as Angela and Katana. _They_ were both glowing, and already there was excited talk of the new eggs that would soon be born into the clan. Elisa, meanwhile, felt like her brain had been put through a blender.

Just as she was getting up to start her shift, a hand landed on her shoulder.

"I know it's your car," Matt said, "but maaaaaaaybe I should drive this time. No offense, partner, but you look like you might fall asleep and hit a lamppost or something."

"You know what, I'm too tired to argue. Let's go."

They were just leaving the building when a rookie—Devons, she thought his name was—passed by on his way off-shift, chatting to his partner. It seemed as if he was complaining about his wife. _Loudly_.

"—and no matter what I do, I swear, it's never good enough to get her out of her pants. I take her out shopping? She's 'not in the mood'. I wear that nice suit that she likes? 'Not in the mood'. A candlelit dinner? Flowers? A fancy night on the town? 'Not in the mood'. I swear—"

He paused quite suddenly when he saw Elisa on the stairs above him, probably wondering why a senior cop on a different shift was suddenly shooting death glares his way.

"_Enjoy it while it lasts_," Elisa snarled, while Matt, behind her, struggled to suppress his laughter.

* * *

**A/N:** Just to clarify, because I think that it needs to be clarified, given the frequency with which mating cycles are used in paranormal romance as an excuse to ignore that whole pesky "consent" issue: _that is not what is happening here_. Elisa was pushing herself harder than she normally would because she knew it was a special occasion and because she wanted to do something nice for Goliath. Sure, she ends up cranky and exhausted (and, let's face it, probably pretty sore :P), but she was doing it because she _chose_ to do it, not because of some nonsense about his biology compelling him to mate whether she likes it or not.


	14. That Time of Year

There are only a finite number of Disney princesses in the universe. Far fewer, in fact, than there are Halloweens in a lifetime…

**Rating:** K  
**Setting:** Post-canon  
**Characters:** Elisa, Beth, Broadway  
**Relationships:** Elisa & Beth, Elisa & Broadway, Elisa/Goliath  
**Warnings:** There are a few hints about racism, cultural appropriation, and Disney's sometimes cringeworthy portrayal of Native cultures  
**Other Tags:** Halloween, dressing up Elisa

* * *

"Hey, Elisa, I know! How about Sleeping Beauty?"

"Nice try, Broadway, but I'm afraid I did that one the year before you guys woke up."

"Oh. Um… Ariel?"

"Sophomore year of high school. And let me tell you, I was _cold_."

"Of course, if you're _really_ desperate, you _could_ always dress up as Pocahontas again," Beth put in with a wicked smile.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Elisa buried her face in her hands. "It took me _years_ to figure out why Dad almost choked when I told him."

"…Snow White?" Broadway tried, looking increasingly less enthusiastic and increasingly more uncomfortable. "Or maybe Mulan?"

"Senior year of high school…"

"…and my first year as a rookie cop," Elisa picked up smoothly right where Beth had left off.

"Sometime soon, you and I are going to have to sit down so I can get you caught up," Beth said, patting Broadway's shoulder. "We Mazas have a _long_ family history when it comes to Halloween theme costumes."

"Yeah, I think I'm starting to see that." Broadway closed the last page of the photo album with a sigh. "So, point is, none of us can think of a single Disney princess that Elisa has yet to dress up as."

"Yeah, and that includes all the different outfits." Beth raked a hand through her hair.

Broadway, meanwhile, was rubbing his chin. "Hey, Elisa? I think I might have an idea."

* * *

"Um… Elisa?"

"Yeah, Goliath?"

"It is not my intention to criticize, but… is that not somewhat different from what you usually wear at this time of year?"

"Oh, Goliath." She moved the hand she had wrapped around his forearm enough to pat his shoulder; the tail of her costume was draped over her other arm. "I'd say you've still got a few things to learn. Besides…" she snuggled deeper into the full-body suit with its rounded ears and clawed paws, "…this outfit is _warm_."

* * *

**A/N:** I wanted to have at least one other person helping Elisa pick out a Halloween costume. Her sister was an obvious choice, as was Broadway the Fanboy, and now that I think of it, I can actually see those two _really_ hitting it off. (Yes, Elisa is dressed up as Nala. Of course, that doesn't answer the question of what she's going to do _next_ year…)

(Also, fun fact: the first thing I thought when we got to see Elisa's Halloween costume in the comics was that it's _amazing_ that she doesn't seem to have any scarring from that time she got shot. My second thought was to wonder how was not freezing. _I have lived in New York state. October is not a warm month._)


	15. Mouths to Feed, Take 2: Local Delicacies

Gargoyles didn't always have humans around to feed them, and sometimes they have to resort to more… _traditional_ methods of finding food.

**Rating:** K+  
**Setting:** Any point during the clan's stay at the clock tower  
**Characters:** The Trio  
**Relationships:** Brooklyn, Broadway, & Lexington  
**Warnings:** Mild grossness; animal deaths  
**Other Tags:** Hunting in NYC

* * *

"Good boy, Bronx!" Brooklyn called as Bronx came galloping up, stump of a tail wagging, with an inert ball of feathers clenched between his jaws. Brooklyn held out a hand. "Now, give it here…"

Right when Brooklyn was within arm's reach of him, Bronx crunched down. Blood spurted from between his jaws as he swallowed what was left of the pigeon. His prey disposed of to his satisfaction, he grinned up at Brooklyn, tongue lolling from between his jaws. A handful of feathers drifted to his feet.

"Awwwww, Bronx!" Brooklyn clenched his fists in frustration. "Why do you have to keep eating all the good ones, huh?"

"Hah! That's what you get for not hunting your own food!" Lexington appeared over the edge of the building, a dead rat dangling from his hand. As they watched, he bit into it, swallowing everything but the tail in a single mouthful.

"Yeah, and the best part is, these are _everywhere!_" Broadway landed on the roof, a dead pigeon in one hand and a dead rat in the other. "So whatever happens, at least we're not going to starve."

"Yeah, I'm jumping for joy here."

"Aw, don't be that way, Brooklyn. Here, you can have one of mine." Broadway tossed him the rat. It flopped on the roof next to Brooklyn's feet.

Brooklyn made a face. He changed his mind when Bronx started sniffing, though, and picked it up just in time to save it from suffering the same fate as the pigeon.

"You know," Brooklyn said, staring at the dead rat as he dangled it by its tail, "somehow I'm getting the feeling that we've come down in the world."

* * *

**A/N:** Once again, the clan has to be feeding itself _somehow_ after leaving the castle and Xanatos's endless supply of money and food, and it's clear from some of their dialogue during "City of Stone" that Demona's clan hunted for their food when they weren't stealing from humans ("The hunting was good there!"). Of course, the prey to be found in Manhattan is considerably more… er… _small game_ than in the Scottish highlands.


	16. A Refreshing Sea Breeze

Most gargoyles don't wear much, and accidents _do_ happen.

**Rating:** T  
**Setting:** Can take place at any point during the Avalon World Tour  
**Characters:** Elisa, Goliath  
**Relationships:** Elisa/Goliath pre-relationship UST  
**Warnings:** Nudity (not graphically described)  
**Other Tags:** Wardrobe malfunction; Oh come on, this has to have happened at least once!

* * *

"Well, that was fun," Elisa muttered, splashing water into her hair in a mostly vain effort to get the mud out. "I cannot _wait_ to get someplace where I can have a proper shower."

"The only thing we can do is return to Avalon and try again."

"Yeah, about that." Elisa turned back from her spot in the prow, in favor of watching Goliath as he polled the skiff along. "What if Avalon _never_ sends us back? Do you think that it's possible—"

Just then, a breeze came in from off the shore. An incredibly _playful_ breeze. It ruffled clothes, lifted everyone's hair… and lifted Goliath's loincloth to a height that was most certainly _not_ appropriate.

Elisa whipped her head away almost fast enough to give herself whiplash, and suddenly managed to find something _incredibly_ interesting in the water below.

"Do I think what is possible?" He peered down at Elisa, who still had her eyes glued to the water; her cheeks were flushed. "Elisa?"

"_Nothing! It's nothing!_"

* * *

**A/N:** Elisa: Stop asking me questions, I'm trying not to objectify you!


	17. Pain Is Beauty

Lexington has a few issues with his choices of clothing being completely incompatible with his personal anatomy.

**Rating:** K+  
**Setting:** Sometime shortly after "Eye of the Beholder"  
**Characters:** Lexington  
**Relationships:** The Trio, Hudson & the Trio  
**Warnings:** None  
**Other Tags:** Fridge Logic; suffering for the sake of a costume; I completely fail at writing a Scottish accent; Hudson is pretty much everyone's dad

* * *

"Ow… ow… ow… ow… ow…"

"For crying out loud, lad!" Hudson poked his head into the main room of the clock tower, where the three younger members of the clan had gathered after the end of the Halloween celebrations. "What on Earth are ye going on about?"

"Lexington just _had_ to dress up as a fighter pilot this year." Brooklyn and Broadway each had one of his sleeves, and were helping him—very, very slowly—to pull it off. "It was," Brooklyn grunted with effort, "and I quote," another grunt, "supposed to be 'the coolest thing ever'."

"Hey, you have to admit that it _was_," Lexington protested, and then hissed in pain as Broadway tugged on his jacket from the other side.

"Um… sorry to say it, Lex, but I don't think this is working." Broadway let go of the sleeve he'd been tugging in order to scratch his head.

"Wait, what? You mean I'm going to be stuck wearing this thing forever?"

"Not if we cut it off ye, lad." Hudson turned his attention to the other two. "As a matter of fact, I fail to see why ye dinna do that before."

"We _tried_," Brooklyn protested. "But _Lex_ here didn't want to damage his precious costume." He rolled his eyes.

"Lad, it's not worth ruining yer wings over." Hudson gently patted Lexington's back. "Ye don't want to take the risk of doing the sort of damage that can't be undone."

Lexington sighed. "You're right." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Just… make it quick?"

"It'll be over before ye know it."

Between claws and sword, the three of them made short work of the offending piece of clothing. When they were finally able to get a look at Lexington without it, both of his wings were looking distinctly rumpled.

"How did ye even get into this in the first place?" Hudson asked, picking up the frayed remains of a sleeve.

"With lots and lots of tugging," Brooklyn supplied.

"And pulling!" Broadway jumped in.

"Not to mention folding my wings in some really uncomfortable ways." Lexington tried to move his arm, and winced. "Th-this isn't going to be permanent, is it?"

"As long as it heals right, I would say not." Hudson was helping to gently straighten out Lexington's wings. "But next year, I would suggest ye refrain from trying to wear sleeves."

* * *

**Fandom:** How does Lexington wear a loincloth?

**Greg Weisman:** His wings are pierced.

**Me:** ...how did Lexington wear a costume with sleeves?


	18. Toys in the Attic

Elisa's six month disappearance is not without consequence.

**Rating:** K+  
**Setting:** Sometime shortly after their return from the Avalon World Tour  
**Characters:** Elisa, Cagney, Broadway  
**Relationships:** Elisa & Broadway  
**Warnings:** Mild gross-out factor  
**Other Tags:** Literal!Fridge Logic; blatant homage to Cowboy Bebop; Cagney being a cat

* * *

It was _so good_ to be back home.

A nice shower, a change of clothes, a chance to sleep in her own bed (or couch; at the moment, she wasn't picky), a purring cat in her lap… Sure, there was a huge stack of mail and a few threatening notes from the landlord, but after being bounced all over the world by a magical island, Elisa honestly didn't feel like she had much to complain about. She scooped up a stack of her mail, and began to sort through it.

Three stacks of envelopes and a lot of persistent meowing later, Elisa started to realize that she was getting hungry. She pushed out her chair, made her way to the kitchen, pulled open the door of the fridge…

A mutated forest of poisonously blue fungal slime greeted her as she eased open the door. Elisa gagged as her nose was assailed by the overwhelming sickly-sweet stench of rot, along with something unfamiliar that was somehow far more sinister. Hastily she slammed the door closed, pressing her back up against it as if the extra pressure would help to hold it shut.

"Okay… something tells me I'm going to have to replace the whole fridge." She pressed a hand firmly over her nose and mouth. "Not to mention order out."

* * *

The disposal team rolled their eyes when she explained that she'd forgotten to clean out her fridge before going on vacation. Broadway was more understanding when he swung by to visit and she had to order food for them both. They were just settling in to watch a classic noir film when Cagney trotted into the room, tail held high.

"What did you catch this time, Cagney?" Elisa started to ask, expecting another mouse, but then her hand flew up to clamp over her nose when she got a whiff of what her cat had dropped at her feet.

It was a… well, it was a mutated blob. It was impossible to say what it had used to be; the only thing Elisa knew was that it had the exact same awful smell that had been emanating from her fridge, and that it was very, very dead.

It seemed that Broadway was just as confused as she was. "Hey, Elisa?" he asked as he crouched to get a look at the thing, movie forgotten. "What's that?" He poked it gently with an experimental claw.

"I don't think we want to know." Cagney, looking pleased with himself, twined around their ankles with a loud purr before he trotted off in search of further prey.

* * *

Cagney brought her five more blobs over the course of the next week. After he dropped one in her mother's lap, Elisa resolved that next time she found herself on an unexpected six-month vacation, the _first_ thing she was doing was calling someone to come over and clean out her kitchen.

* * *

**A/N:** Yep, this is a tribute to the _Cowboy Bebop_ episode of the same name.


	19. Mouths to Feed, Take 3: Hammerspace

How dose Elisa manage to feed and buy furnishings for a clan of six gargoyles on top of paying rent for that really nice apartment of hers… and in NYC, no less? Well, it's entirely possible that she has a bit of help.

**Rating:** K  
**Setting:** Various points during the Clock Tower days  
**Characters:** Elisa  
**Relationships:** Elisa & the Manhattan Clan  
**Warnings:** None  
**Other Tags:** Fridge Logic, The Writers are messing with Elisa

* * *

At first, she thought she had a hole in her pocket.

Elisa had just recently finished sneaking as much canned food into the clock tower as she could carry (not to mention _afford_). With the castle lost to them and Xanatos no longer footing the bill for their upkeep, she didn't _want_ to think what her friends would be eating if she didn't at least try to help out once in a while. It wasn't gourmet, but they wouldn't starve.

Shortly after she'd finished lugging the last haul of cans up the ladder, Elisa found herself passing an electronics store and noticed a handheld game on display in the window. _Lexington would like that_, she thought. She even reached a hand into her pocket on reflex, and found a reassuring wad of bills.

"I shouldn't," she said with a sigh as she turned away. "After all, _I've_ gotta eat too." She gave one last symbolic wave toward the shop window as she turned away. "Maybe next month, Lex."

Later, when she was standing in line to pay for her own groceries, she remembered the money. When she stuck her hand into her pocket, however, she came up empty: the wad of bills was gone.

_Figures_, she thought as she dug her wallet out of her other pocket to see if she could find a credit card. _Of course I'd lose money to a pocket hole right when I'm ready to spend it._

The funny thing was, even though she gave her clothes a thorough going-over before she went to bed that night, she was completely unable to find a hole.

* * *

It was odd, sure, but Elisa didn't think anything of it until it happened again.

Slowly, she's been helping the gargoyles turn their clock tower lair into a real home. Some of it, they'd managed themselves, such as that battered old easy chair that Brooklyn and Broadway had dug out of a dump and brought back for Hudson. There were some things, however, that only Elisa could provide. Not long after Lexington had managed to rewire the place so they had electricity, Elisa spotted a secondhand refrigerator for sale.

"Well, I guess they _should_ have something to eat that doesn't come out of a can… or the garbage." When she put her hand into her pocket, she once more felt a wad of bills. It turned out to be just enough to pay for the fridge.

Not long after Broadway had helped her cart _that_ up (with lots of very enthusiastic thanks), Elisa spotted a cookbook. She knew how much Broadway liked to try out new recipes, not to mention how much he'd like an opportunity to practice his reading…

"Oh, no," she said to herself, causing a couple of passerby to stare. "No, no, no. I have a budget, and that is _it_ until I get my next paycheck." Despite the wad of bills that she could feel in her pocket (she must have missed a few), she made herself turn around and walk away.

Of course, when Elisa reached into her pocket to pay for her _own_ dinner, all of that money was gone.

* * *

From then on, Elisa started to notice a pattern. Every time she saw something nice to buy for the gargoyles, she somehow always had just enough money in her pocket. Whenever she wanted to get something for _herself_, it had to come out of her own paycheck.

She chose not to tell them about it. Even by their standards, this would probably be a little weird, and like most humans, she worried that paying too much attention to her luck would cause it to go away.

_Still_, she wondered as she handed over money for a gaming system she thought the younger gargoyles would be able to enjoy together, _I wish that I knew what was going on._

* * *

**A/N:** So, how _does_ Elisa afford that nice big apartment, _and_ that nice classy car, _and_ enough food to keep herself plus six gargoyles fed, in one of the most expensive cities in the world, on a police detective's salary? Obviously, it's because the writers want her to, and magic money into her pocket whenever she needs it.

(Okay, so I just looked it up, and apparently an NYPD police detective's salary is actually pretty impressive… but then again, so are New York rental prices.)


	20. Out of MInd, Out of Sight

How is it possible for an interstellar sentinel to be posted to a remote backwater of a planet to safeguard the locals from invasion, yet be completely unable to identify the invaders?

**Rating:** K+  
**Setting:** Pre-canon  
**Characters:** Nokkar  
**Warnings:** Some mentions of brainwashing and nonconsensual memory wiping  
**Other Tags:** Fridge Logic

* * *

The mind cleanser was malfunctioning _again_.

Of all the things to keep breaking when he was stranded alone on an alien planet dozens of light years away from his home… about the only thing worse would have been his engines. Well, the war hadn't started yet, and so far he had nothing but time. Nokkar took out his tools, and got to work repairing it.

Several hours later, multiple tools ranged all around him, and a dismantled mind cleanser in his lap, Nokkar was forced to admit that this might not be as simple as he had first supposed. It was still spitting sparks at random and giving readings that were completely nonsensical. Maybe if he just—

* * *

The next thing he knew, he was on the floor.

Where was he? _Who_ was he? Though the technology around him was familiar, the landscape outside was not. What was he doing on an alien planet? Why was he wearing a military-grade exosuit? And for that matter, what was his _name?_

Thankfully, he still had enough general knowledge to access all of the non-encrypted data in the ship's computer banks. They told him that his name was Nokkar, that his people were at war with the Space Spawn, and that he was a sentinel on a small, backwater planet known by its native inhabitants as "Earth".

A few more hours, and enough of his memories had resurfaced for him to form a rough idea of what had happened. The password that sprang to mind when he touched the console allowed him to confirm it. He'd been doing some sort of repairs on his mind cleanser when it had gone off by accident, and erased most of his memories. The knowledge that they would eventually come back was reassuring.

* * *

Several days later, Nokkar was less than reassured.

He had been performing extensive tests, in addition to reading every manual that was available in the digital archives, and they only confirmed what he already knew from personal observation. He could recall his commanding officer's face, but not his parents'. When he looked at the night sky of this world, he could pick out his home star without error, but which planet he had come from eluded him.

All of his memories _should_ have returned by now, but he was still finding gaps. The fact that the mind cleanser had been malfunctioning when it had gone off meant that he might _never_ get them back.

Thankfully, the information in the computer banks was sufficient to fill in most of what he needed to know. There was one missing memory, however, for which he could not seem to find an answer: what, exactly, did the enemy look like?

Enough of Nokkar's memory had returned by this point that he _knew_ he had once known… but he could not seem to access that information. That memory, it seemed had been permanently deleted. Nor were there any pictures of Space Spawn in the computer banks.

Well, that left Nokkar with only one option. He would simply have to memorize all of the life that was native to this planet, starting with this specific island. True, it would be tedious, but he had nothing but time. If he studied hard enough, he would know on sight what belonged here and what didn't, and would be able to make a snap decision in the event that he encountered anything that seemed suspiciously out of place. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

**A/N:** "Sentinel" was one of my least favorite episodes, not least because the notion that Nokkar, who's supposed to be a professional soldier from an advanced society fighting an interstellar war, is nevertheless so ill-informed that he can't tell the difference between a Space Spawn and a gargoyle, was just one too many hoops for my suspension of disbelief to jump through.


	21. See No Nudity, Hear No Nudity

Not having to look at a bunch of naked gargoyles every evening is a lot harder than it sounds.

**Rating:** T  
**Setting:** Some point during Timedancer  
**Characters:** Brooklyn  
**Warnings:** Nudity (who would've guessed!?)  
**Other Tags:** Rules of magic, Fridge Logic

* * *

Brooklyn never knew what to expect when the Phoenix dropped him.

If he was lucky, he'd land among fellow gargoyles, but more often than he would have liked he came out of the fire to find himself surrounded by humans, with not a wing nor a tail in sight. It was always a toss-up whether they would run away screaming, greet his presence with little more than a shrug, or, on one memorable occasion, shuffle forward on their knees and present him with offerings.

Yeah. _That_ one had been kinda weird.

Initially, at least, he'd judged this time to be more or less average: humans and gargoyles living side by side in an uneasy symbiosis, the gargoyles providing protection from outside threats in return for a safe place to sleep. When Brooklyn had arrived, he'd been greeted with curiosity but no undue hostility, and offered a place to sleep with the local clan. All in all, there didn't seem to be anything too weird going on.

…of course, he'd thought that _before_ he'd woken up to find himself surrounded on all sides by a group of the local humans.

"_What?_" he yelled, causing all of them to jump back a bit—though that didn't stop any of them from continuing to point and whisper.

Then, he saw that the local gargoyles _also_ seemed to be curious… and he ended up seeing a bit more than that. When the sun had risen, the local clan had all been wearing clothes. Those clothes were now hanging off of them in tatters, completely shredded when their stone skin burst from their bodies.

"I think I might know why I'm here now," Brooklyn muttered at the same time one of the humans said, "Yes. Yes, I think this just might work."

* * *

A few nights later, the clan was gathered and the humility spell cast, and when Brooklyn woke up the next evening, all of the gargoyles were still wearing the same clothes that they'd gone to sleep in. The local magus was heartily congratulated all around… and the rich reward he received from the emperor definitely didn't hurt.

"So what are you going to do now?" Brooklyn asked, waiting for the phoenix to grab him again.

"Now?" the magus answered cheerfully. "Why, now, I'm going to travel to every city in the empire that hosts a clan, and once I've finished that I'm going to visit every clan in the world, and perform the same spell."

He must have seen the expression on Brooklyn's face, for he let out a hearty laugh. "My dear boy," he said as Brooklyn continued to stare at him in disbelief, "did nobody ever tell you you have to see _and_ hear magic for it to affect you? The humility spell won't work for gargoyles the world over unless I _apply_ it to gargoyles the world over." His last words faded out as the phoenix fire consumed Brooklyn once more.

* * *

**A/N:** It's explicitly stated in "City of Stone" that you have to both see _and_ hear a magic spell for it to have an effect… so how did one spell manage to affect gargoyles the world over unless it was cast in person on gargoyles the world over?


	22. Baby See, Baby Do

Everyone knows that small children learn by imitating the adults around them, all of which is entirely natural and normal. When the child in question is a part-fey magic user and two of his primary role models are a mechanically-inclined gargoyle and the trickster himself, however, things can very quickly get out of hand.

**Rating:** K+  
**Setting:** Post-canon  
**Characters:** Alex Xanatos, Lexington, Puck  
**Relationships:** Lexington & Alex, Puck & Alex  
**Warnings:** While there's never any actual harm done, there are several instances of a small child being in serious danger. Also, spoilers.  
**Other Tags:** Babysitting antics

* * *

"Lex!" Baby Alex clapped his pudgy hands together with a smile as Lexington tickled him under the chin. "Lex!"

"Sorry Alex, but I've gotta go. I've got patrol tonight." He gave the kid one last pat on the back, and then gently pushed him towards his father, who was talking with Owen just a few feet away. "You be good, okay?"

"Lex!"

Lexington shook his head, and made sure that Alex was toddling in the right direction before he leaped from the parapets.

What he did _not_ see was the moment that Alex turned around to watch him. The toddler clapped his hands in delight, made his way back to the edge of the castle, spread his arms, and then leaped down after him.

"Alex, NO!" Lexington yelled, banking in midair, knowing even as he dove that he was too far away to do anything…

Thankfully, someone else was not.

"Alex, NO!" Owen yelled. Before anyone else could blink, he was also running, and took a flying leap off the edge of the castle. Seconds later, Puck was hovering in midair with the baby in his arms and delightedly shouting "Again!"

"Let me tell you, kid, I might be ageless, but you're going to be the death of me," he said as Lexington glided worried circles around them. He looked up at the castle, where Xanatos was leaning over the parapets with a horrified expression on his face. "Don't worry, he's okay! Well," he told the delightedly burbling Alex, "that settles it. Next thing I'm teaching you is a hover spell."

* * *

"Hey, Hudson, could you hand me the phillips screwdriver?"

"Hand ye the _what_, now?"

"Never mind." Lexington stuck his hand out from behind the TV, which had been constantly on the fritz. "Just hand me the toolbox, I'll find it myself."

"Aye, now _that_ I can manage." He put the toolbox in Lexington's hand, where it disappeared behind the TV once more.

"I'm sure I have no idea," Owen had said, adjusting his glasses, when Hudson had appraised him of the constant static and the tendency to change channels without anyone touching either the dial or the remote. "However, I'm sure that Mr. Xanatos will be happy to pay for a mechanic…"

Lexington, however, had thought that he was up to the job, and since the gargoyles used the TV far more often than the Xanatos family anyway, they decided to leave him to it.

"Uh-huh. I think I see what the problem is." His hand emerged once more from behind the screen, holding a hunk of metal. "See this?"

Hudson plucked it out of his fingers. "Aye, but I don't know what to make of it."

"Well, for one thing, it's melted." Lexington hoisted his head and one arm over the top of the TV. "There's no fixing it without that part, so we're going to need a replacement. What I can't figure out is _how—_"

"Lex!"

"Oh, hey Alex!" He grinned at the toddler, who'd rode into the room on Bronx's back. "Sorry, buddy, but I can't play right now. Just give me a few more minutes—"

"Lex!" Alex pointed, and a sparkling purple cloud leaped from his finger. Hudson ducked behind his chair; Lexington fell back behind the TV. When they peered back out of their hiding places, they saw that the unfortunate toolbox had been the victim of whatever amateur spell Alex had cast… and that all of its contents were now melted.

"Okay, I think I know what happened to the TV."

* * *

Lexington was searching for his replacement toolbox and Owen for his pupil when they bumped into each other in the hallway.

"No, I haven't," Owen replied when Lexington asked him whether he'd seen it. "Alex, however, seems to have disappeared. Fox had left him in the playroom behind a baby gate, her reasoning being that there wasn't much there that he could get into. She turned her back for five minutes to take a phone call, only to return her attention to the playroom to find him nowhere in sight."

"Oh, _no_," Lexington groaned. "Well, I'll help you look, then. Alex is more important than anything I own."

"I suspected you'd say that."

It took a few minutes' searching, but they eventually found Alex. They also found the toolbox.

The baby, as it turned out, was in the laundry room, and he was in the process of happily dismantling the washing machine. The remainder of the machine was swelling ominously as it emitted a high-pitched whining, whether from stresses mechanical or magical it was impossible to tell… not that it particularly mattered at this juncture.

Owen only just managed to transform and to throw a protective bubble around Alex before the whole thing exploded.

The baby was completely untouched. The two adults in the room, though, ended up being thrown against the wall and covered with sudsy water while Alex clapped his hands and shouted "Again! Again!"

From his place slumped upside down against the wall, Puck turned to look at Lexington. "This might be just me, but something is starting to tell me we've been a bad influence."

* * *

**A/N:** I do have to wonder how Alex is going to grow up, considering the primary adult influences in his life. And that's not even getting into his _parents_…


	23. Mouths to Feed, Take 4: Ordering Out

It's possible for even nonhumans to enjoy all of New York's pleasures. They just have to be creative about how they do it.

**Rating:** K  
**Setting:** Can take place at any point during the clan's residence in the Clock Tower  
**Characters:** OC, the Trio, Hudson  
**Relationships:** The Trio, the Trio & Hudson  
**Warnings:** There is some _very_ brief mention of serial killers, but it's only ever a mention  
**Other Tags:** The series as seen by random bystanders

* * *

Howard was greeted by a round of applause when he walked back into the pizza parlor. "So, you avoid the ax murderer?" Samantha asked with a wink.

"Ha ha, very funny." Howard ran a hand over his face. "You know, for a while there I thought it actually _was_ a serial killer, thanks a lot."

"Hey, it could still be a serial killer! Maybe he just wanted to get a good look at your face, and—"

"Knock it off," the manager interrupted, poking his head in the door. "Sam, stop scaring the kid and get back to work. The kitchen just finished your next delivery."

"Ah, you're no fun," she grumbled, but got up to take the stack of boxes.

"You're new to this city, aren't you?" Evan asked. He was double checking the address of his next delivery.

Howard's shoulders slumped. "How could you tell?"

Evan chuckled. "Son, I don't know what the delivery business was like out in the country, but you're in Manhattan now. We've got more than our fair share of weirdos." He patted Howard on the shoulder on his way out the door. "Besides," he added as an afterthought, "it's actually the well-groomed, respectable looking ones you have to watch out for." He gave Howard a wink of his own as he used his foot to push open the door. "Cheers!"

* * *

**Earlier that night**

"All right!" Lexington gave a whoop as he swooped in to land. "Look what I found, just laying around on the sidewalk!" He waved the twenty dollar bill to illustrate his triumph.

"So that makes…" Brooklyn had already dug out the small stash they'd hidden between the floorboards. "Hey, I think we might finally be able to order something! We can actually have real food for a change!"

"About that, lads." Hudson was busy channel surfing, but he'd clearly been listening in. "How do ye plan to _give_ them the money? It's not like ye can walk up and hand it over."

Broadway rubbed his chin. "I think I might have an idea."

* * *

"Hello, you've reached Pete's Pizza! How may I help you?"

"Yes, hello, I'd like to make a delivery. Three large pizzas with everything on them."

"Three large pizzas, with everything. Will that be all?"

There was a pause, followed by a hasty whispered exchange on the other end of the line, only a few words of which were discernible. "…can't… … …few slime-coated bills… … …yes… … …eating rats! … Um, can you throw in a large order of breadsticks as well?"

"Three large pizzas with everything and a large order of breadsticks. And what is your address for the delivery?"

More hasty whispering. "…can't just… … …knew this was a bad idea… … …what if… … …scare him off! … Tell the driver to take it to the alley beside the police station and leave it on top of the dumpster. … …I _know_ about the money! … Take it to the police station. …yes, I _know!_… The alley outside the police station. Leave it on top of the dumpster. Oh, and, um, the money will already be there waiting. On top of the dumpster, yes. Oh, and, um, the deliveryman can keep the change. Thanks, bye!"

* * *

**A/N:** I would not put it past Lexington to try doing something like this.


	24. An Unexpected Barrier

When Xanatos decided to put a castle on top of a skyscraper to see if a bunch of stone statues could be brought back to life, his plans were meticulous. There's just one small detail he may have overlooked…

**Rating:** K  
**Setting:** AU ("Awakening")  
**Characters:** Xanatos, Goliath  
**Warnings:** None  
**Other Tags:** Fridge Logic

* * *

"Yes! It worked!"

In all honesty, he could barely believe it himself. Oh, sure, David Xanatos was nothing if not confident in his ability to bend the reality to his will… but he'd also invested a _lot_ of money. To see those cracks spreading over that statue was not just a moment of personal triumph, but the long-awaited return on a risky investment.

In short, it would not be an exaggeration to say that David Xanatos was very pleased with himself that night.

The gargoyles had not yet noticed him. The one nearest him had leaped from the battlements without ever turning around, and now they were exchanging an exuberant greeting with each other, though the exact words were impossible to make out at this distance and over the sound of the wind and thunder. No matter. Let them celebrate; he would have plenty of time to say his piece.

Xanatos let himself down from the keep by more conventional means. As soon as he was within visual range, he coughed to get their attention, turned his focus to the big one, evidently the leader, and asked, "Are you the one called Goliath?"

"Cé hé tusa? Cád atá tú ag déanamh anseo?"

This… this wasn't part of the plan at all! Unfortunately, he seemed to have forgotten that the gargoyles he was trying to resurrect were a thousand years old, and that technology wasn't the only thing that changed over time.

"Owen!" he called. "Find out what language he's speaking, and bring me a dictionary!"

* * *

**A/N:** Here's a fun fact: people did not speak modern English in medieval Scotland.

I did the best I could to find out which language the Wyvern Clan would have realistically spoken given their location and the time period. According to the wiki Castle Wyvern was located on the western coast of Scotland, and they were initially from the late tenth century. From what I've managed to come up with in the short period of time I've given myself to write these things, the most likely answer is Gaelic. How Xanatos managed to read the Magus's diary yet still take it for granted that the gargoyles would speak English is an exercise I'll leave to the imagination.

(Also, I sincerely apologize for using Google Transgarble to render Goliath's speech, with the added insult that it's in modern Gaelic which would undoubtedly be different from medieval Gaelic, but it's the best I can do and I've already had my hands full trying to learn Mandarin, so work with me here. Suggested improvements from those with actual expertise will be taken into account.)


	25. If It Ain't Broke

Most spells are written with an "impossible" escape clause stating the terms under which they may be broken—including the one that literally _nobody_ ever wanted broken.

**Rating:** T  
**Setting:** Post-canon, I guess?  
**Characters:** The Manhattan Clan  
**Relationships:** Brief mentions of Broadway/Angela, Brooklyn/Katana (yeesh, I almost wrote Brooklyn/_Katara_ on autopilot right there), and Lexington/Staghart if you've got your shipping goggles on  
**Warnings:** Nudity  
**Other Tags:** Fridge Logic

* * *

"Hey, Lex." Broadway turned to his nearest neighbor. "Do you feel that?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something's…"

Each turned to look at the other fully, only to realize simultaneously that he had not a stitch on him.

"…different."

"What in the—!" Lexington hastily jumped down from his perch, crossing his arms over the front of his body, as low as he could reach. Gargoyles, unlike humans, weren't prone to blushing, but right now he was coming pretty close. "What _happened?_"

By this point the rest of the clan had also realized their predicament, and had gathered together in a tight-knit circle. Hudson, Brooklyn, and Katana at least still had a few tatters to wrap around themselves, thanks to their leather or metal armor, but everyone else in the clan was stuck wearing literally nothing.

"Yeah, 'what happened?' is a really good question." Angela was pressed into Broadway's embrace, his wings wrapped around her to shield her from sight. "Our clothes have _always_ turned to stone whenever we do. Why would they suddenly stop?"

"Not _always_." Brooklyn had his own wings wrapped around Katana, who was pulling the tattered remains of her kimono around herself with as much dignity as she could muster. "This was just how things were before the Spell of Humility was cast."

"Brooklyn," Goliath said urgently, tugging the edge of a wing over the lower half of his body. "You witnessed the casting of this spell. Do you remember the terms?"

"Not _exactly_. My Latin was still pretty rusty at the time. But I do seem to recall something about man taming the fires of the sun."

Before they could discuss the matter further, however, there were footsteps on the stairs. "Hey guys, I was just coming to see if you'd heard about _sorry never mind I'll come back later!_" Elisa threw an arm over her face as she beat a hasty retreat.

A few minutes and multiple blankets salvaged from wherever she could grab them later, Elisa had joined them in attempting to figure out the mystery, even though her face was still bright red. "Someone must've broken the escape clause without meaning to, that's the only thing I can think of. I sure can't see why anyone would do this on _purpose_."

"Indeed." Goliath was holding a blanket awkwardly around his waist. "And now our only option is to seek out a sorcerer to put the spell back in place. We cannot keep doing this every night."

"Yeah," Lexington agreed. He was sitting on the floor, the blanket wrapped around his whole body. "I'll get in touch with Amp, see if the same thing's happening over in London."

"That's right, Una's a sorcerer!" Angela said excitedly from beneath the blanket she and Broadway were sharing. "And even if she can't do anything, maybe Griff and Arthur have run into someone who can."

"That's settled, then." Goliath nodded at Lexington, who shuffled awkwardly down the stairs in search of the nearest computer. The rest of them were just beginning to disperse when Broadway remembered.

"Oh yeah, Elisa, what were you coming up here to tell us about?"

"Oh? Oh! I was just going to ask if you'd heard about Xanatos commissioning that prototype fusion reactor."

* * *

**A/N:** Given the things that modern technology is capable of, I can't help but wondering whether those "impossible" escape clauses that seem to be part and parcel of human magic ever get broken by accident…


	26. The Not-so-Perfect Crime

Demona had had her attempted genocide of humanity all planned out in her head for centuries prior to attempting to put it into practice. So why did she feel the need to spell it out on video and give advance warning to anyone who managed to decrypt it?

**Rating:** T

**Setting:** Post-canon

**Characters:** Demona, Robyn Canmore

**Warnings:** Mentions of genocide

**Other Tags:** Fridge Logic, the villains making things way too easy for the heroes

Robyn Canmore had long since given up the hunt. That didn't change the fact that sometimes, the hunt found _her_.

"Filthy _human!_" Demona snarled as she swooped at Robyn, who ducked down flat against the rooftop to avoid her claws. "If it weren't for _you_, I would have been able to rid the planet of your pitiful race once and for all!"

"You have only yourself to blame for that, monster." She pulled her gun, only to have it swiped out of her hand. "If you didn't want your plans to be foiled, why did you leave them sitting around out in the open for anyone to decrpyt and watch?"

"Because." Demona landed, her eyes glowing and a wicked grin on her face. "I like to gloat."

**A/N:** Just think, the human race would have been toast if not for Demona's carelessness.


	27. A New Appreciation

Transforming into a human during the day has made Demona's life a whole lot easier… but there are also some downsides.

**Rating:** K  
**Setting:** Sometime shortly after "The Mirror"  
**Characters:** Demona  
**Warnings:** None  
**Other Tags:** Species switching shenanigans

* * *

She tried to look at it this way: at least she had _some_ advantages now.

True, she had to spend half of her time as a filthy _human_ now, but that also meant she could now walk among the filthy humans by day without fear of persecution.

If she absolutely _must_ look like this, she supposed it was in her best interest to at least _try_ to do something useful—and right now, that meant spending her money on something she could _use_ (and which it wouldn't be more convenient to just steal after the sun set).

This was it, she decided. A new start, new freedom… new chances to take her revenge.

Demona strode through the house, the one piece of property she'd managed to acquire, grasped the knob, and yanked open the door.

Immediately, she was hit by a blast of cold air. Shivering, she slammed the door shut, wrapped her arms around herself, and hopped from foot to frozen foot in an incredibly undignified manner as she rubbed her arms roughly in an attempt to get _warm_.

So _that_ was why humans covered up so much. She was going to _kill_ Puck if she saw him again.

* * *

**A/N:** Fact: gargoyles have a much higher cold tolerance than humans do. Goliath said as much outright when Elisa asked him _how the hell he was not freezing_ in NYC, in the middle of winter, with barely anything to wear.


	28. On the Other Foot

After Puck's romp through the city, Demona is now a part-time human and Goliath's relationship with Elisa will never be the same again. Then, there are the little things…

**Rating:** K  
**Setting:** Shortly after "The Mirror"  
**Characters:** Travis Marshall, Xanatos, Owen  
**Relationships:** Xanatos & Owen  
**Warnings:** Spoilers  
**Other Tags:** Fridge Logic; seriously, even Greg Weisman was wondering about this!

* * *

"And here we are on the second day of the Great Shoe Caper, in which the whole population of the city, including this reporter, suddenly found themselves barefoot for no apparent reason. So far there's been no word on how or why seven million people all could have forgotten to don footwear on the same night, much less the location of the missing shoes (or, for that mater, socks)…"

Xanatos pressed the mute button. "Owen?" He indicated the TV screen, where the reporter was now interviewing several people. "Care to explain?"

"Explain, sir?"

"Yes." Xanatos steepled his fingers. "Seems you were rather busy last night. I suppose you decided it would be amusing to steal the whole city's shoes on top of all of your other mischief?"

"Sir, I never steal." Owen pushed his glasses up on his face. "Or at least, not without your explicit instructions." Xanatos raised an eyebrow. "Gargoyles simply have feet of a size and shape significantly different from humans. Ergo, I judged it would be much kinder to transform them without their constraining footwear. Puck is many things, but he is never cruel for cruelty's sake."

"I see. And is there any particular reason you never returned them? Because if there's now a stockpile of seven million pairs of shoes lying around in one of my spare bedrooms, I would like some advance warning."

"Yes. About that." For the first time in the conversation, Owen looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Transformation magic is tiring. Exhausting, as a matter of fact. I needed to draw on a source of power."

"And…?"

"And, as it turns out, converting matter is a crude but effective way of obtaining additional energy. I believe your scientists have more precise equations."

"So, let me get this straight." Xanatos was now grinning. "You're telling me that last night you _ate_ seven million pairs of shoes?"

"Well, if you want to put it _that_ way…"

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, it's the question of what happened to everyone's shoes at the end of "The Mirror". One would _think_ they were just popped into the same dimension of hammerspace as Elisa's red jacket, but I was watching carefully, and all of the humans _were_ actually still barefoot once they got transformed back. This got even weirder after Elisa was transformed back; I was watching that carefully too, and she got to keep _her_ shoes. Maybe Puck gave her shoes and jacket back as a gesture of appreciation because he just had so much fun that night?


	29. Downgrade

Okay, so this human form has its uses, but Demona would _really_ like to be her real self again, thanks.

**Rating:** K+

**Setting:** Sometime after "The Mirror"

**Characters:** Demona

**Warnings:** Some descriptions of minor injuries

**Other Tags:** Fridge Logic

This was _intolerable_.

Her hair was a tangled mess, the sidewalk tore at the tender soles of her weak human feet, and she was _cold_.

"Um… lady? Maybe you should be wearing a coat?"

"Shut up, you filthy human!" Demona shook her fist at the concerned passerby, who held up his hands in a placating manner before hurrying on his way. And then, once he was gone, she hurriedly wrapped her arms around herself again, because she was still cold.

Okay. Back alley. All she needed to do was climb the wall, and…

Her blunt human fingers and toes scrabbled at the bricks, but couldn't seem to find a purchase anywhere. Several of her fingernails (such _useless_ human excuses for real claws!) were wrenched out of place, causing blood to well up beneath them, but she nevertheless attempted to push herself up just a little further before she could finally hold on no more and fell backwards right onto the hard ground of the alley.

Her next attempt ended in much the same way. And the next. And the next.

"You haven't defeated me yet, you filthy piece of human trash!" She shook her fist at the wall. Then, because she needed to take her anger out on _something_, she slammed her fist into the nearby dumpster.

After several minutes' worth of hopping around and cursing, rubbing her badly bruised hand and with her only consolation the thought that if she was very, _very_ lucky, Macbeth had felt it too, Demona took a look at the unscaleable wall, took a look at the undented dumpster, rubbed her hands over her freezing arms, and trudged back out of the alley.

"Never mind, I'll come back tonight."

**A/N:** Methinks Demona must have had a period of adjustment when she was still getting used to using a human body. She definitely seems to rely overly much on her physical strength when it comes to fighting (Elisa taunting her that "You fight like a rookie!"), and she's not quite used to being without her claws yet.

(Why does she need to climb that wall in the first place? I have no idea. Imagine whatever scenario you like.)


	30. Ulterior Motives

Xanatos is disappointed he couldn't get Goliath on his side… but not for the reason you'd think.

**Rating:** T  
**Setting:** Shortly after "Awakening"  
**Characters:** Xanatos, Owen  
**Relationships:** Xanatos & Owen; Goliath/Demona; _extremely_ one-side Xanatos/Goliath  
**Warnings:** Mild language and sexual content  
**Other Tags:** Foe Yay

* * *

"Well, Mr. Xanatos, I'd say your investment failed to yield an appreciable return. While the intelligence we gained from Cyberbiotics was certainly valuable, the signs so far are that it will not even _begin_ to make up for the astronomical amounts of money you spent to restore the castle, nor for having gained a powerful new enemy who was only in your service for a very brief span of time."

"Too true, Owen." Xanatos shook his head on the other side of the prison glass. "What a team we could have made…"

* * *

_"__Magnificent." Xanatos brushed the accumulation of vines from the face of the stone statue. "Make the offer now, Owen. This instant."_

_"__May I say one last time, Mr. Xanatos, that the costs of this venture will be astronomical." Even as he protested, however, Owen was already pulling out his phone._

_"__Start hiring crews. I want to begin as soon as possible."_

_Who cared about cost? Xanatos had money to burn, and besides, if the clan's leader looked this good as a statue, Xanatos was getting hard just _thinking_about what he would look like in the flesh._

* * *

_"__Why have you done all this?"_

_"__I was fascinated by the Magus's story. I wanted to see if it was true." Xanatos leaned in closer, lowering his long lashes over his eyes for the fullest effect. "And, now that I know it is, I want to be your friend." _And a bit more than that_, he thought, but didn't say, instead leaning in to rest his hand, along with its hidden tracking chip, on Goliath's shoulder. "There is much we can do for each other, Goliath."_

* * *

_"__Goliath. there's someone here I want you to meet. An old acquaintance, I believe."_

_"__Who…?" The moment he laid eyes on the female, Goliath let out a gasp. "You're alive!"_

_"__Goliath. My love."_

_Within seconds they were in each other's arms, their wings wrapped around each other as Goliath tenderly stroked his mate's hair. The gesture was so intimate that Xanatos felt a tad voyeuristic, and a marked contrast to the gargoyle's cautious, almost to the point of being cold, reception of the man who'd awoken him from a thousand years of slumber._

_"__My angel. It really is you!"_

_"__Oh, Goliath. All the days that I've dreamed of you and this moment."_

_Xanatos cleared his throat. "I'm very happy for you both." _Damn_, he thought, _looks like he's straight.

* * *

"Mr. Xanatos? Sir?"

Xanatos shook his head and refocused his attention to the other side of the prison glass. "Sorry, Owen, could you repeat that?"

"I _said_, would you like me to take any measures for the means of damage control? The gargoyles are still staying at the castle, and as they are completely vulnerable during the day…"

"No, Owen, let them stay. That sort of solution is dreadfully wasteful, and there's still a chance I'll find some use for them." _Maybe if I play my cards right, he'll come around._

* * *

**A/N:** This is less something I ship than it is something I _can never unsee_, which is that when the gargoyles are first awakened and Xanatos is making introductions, I seriously swear that Xanatos is _flirting_ with Goliath. Greg Weisman all but telling us outright that Xanatos is bisexual definitely _does not help_.


	31. A New Skill

Where exactly did a medieval gargoyle learn how to dance?

**Rating:** K  
**Setting:** Shortly before "Eye of the Beholder"  
**Characters:** Goliath, the Trio  
**Relationships:** Elisa/Goliath  
**Warnings:** None  
**Other Tags:** Fridge Logic; everybody is a Shipper on Deck; dialogue only

* * *

"Wait wait wait, so Elisa asked you to meet up with her this Halloween?"

"Yes, of course. But I don't see what that—"

"As in, like a date?"

"She did not specify what it should be called, but I suppose that's possible…"

"Goliath, this is great! You know what you're supposed to do, right?"

"What do you mean, what I'm supposed to do? I'm meeting a friend to celebrate a holiday. I don't see how that requires anything special on my part."

"Yeah, but… do you know how to _romance_ a human?"

"What is between Elisa and myself is not the concern of—"

"Aw, c'mon. It can't hurt to at least take her dancing."

"You think that I should _what?_ Broadway, you must know that a human cannot hope to emulate a mating flight."

"So? All that means is that _you'll_ have to learn how to do things the human way. Look, I even have some videos here. How hard can it be?"

* * *

"…so wait, I think that you put your hand here…"

"No no no, you've got it all wrong! Here, let me pause it for a second. There, see what that guy's doing?"

"Oh yeah, and don't forget to watch your feet. Remember, it's _left_ right left."

"Oh come on! The last time I tried that we ended up tripping each other."

"Okay, let's try this again. And let's try this with no one falling into the gears this time."

* * *

"I must admit, Goliath, I didn't expect you to know how to dance. Where did you learn it?"

"If there's one thing I've learned, Elisa, it is that it's always worthwhile to pick up a few human skills."

* * *

**A/N:** Hi, I wrote and posted this in the airport terminal because I'm going to finish this collection properly if it kills me


End file.
